Narrative Essay

By Jason Sallemi

  “Without ambition one starts nothing.  Without work one finishes nothing.  The prize will not be sent to you.  You have to win it…” Ralph Waldo Emerson is credited for these motivational words.  I have lived by, and allowed these words into my life my freshman year of high school when I decided to run Cross-Country.

            It was a cold, brisk Saturday morning.  We all packed into the big, rusted, old bus, and set off for the race.  As we arrived at Kirby Park, I felt a cold chill shoot all the way up spine.  I was nervous.  I stood up and could feel how badly my legs were shaking.  I had the chills, but I was not cold.  There were countless butterflies in my stomach just floating around causing tension deep inside of my body.  I felt queasy and felt the need to find a toilet seat to rest over.  I somehow managed to walk off the bus.  I looked up in the gray, cloudy, gloomy, sky and said,

            “Please God, help and guide me through today.”

I knew God was with me.  This gave me the courage and strength I needed to approach the starting line a short time later.

            We found a shady area under a big oak tree and sat there to stretch.  As every other race, we positioned ourselves in a circle to show our team unity.  I started to stretch and could feel how sore and tight my muscles were.  It actually hurt when I tried to touch my feet.

            “Runners gather round,” a distant voice screamed.

This meant it was time to start.  Our team said a prayer, and then headed for the starting line.  As I approached the starting area, I saw the opposing team.  They were tall, big, and muscular.  I could see the seriousness on their faces.  They came to run, and they came to win.  My conscience suddenly started to play games with my mind, and I started asking myself questions.  “What if I didn’t train hard enough?  “What if I am not ready?  What if we lose?”

            I finally blocked myself out of that negative world and found myself in the ready position.  My knees were bent, and I was ready for the gun to go off.  The next few seconds were filled with nothing but complete silence.  The whistle of the wind was the only thing that was heard throughout the whole park.  I was completely concentrated on what I was going to do, and what had to be done.  I let myself float off in my own little world.  I was the only person in this world. The overwhelming white sky was above my head.  There was nothing but white. It was everywhere.  There were no people, no fans, and no other runners.  I was in a zone.  This happy, peaceful, tranquil place slowly let out all of the nervousness and pressure that was building up inside of me.  I was ready to run my heart out.  Then, the gun went off.

All of the runners started off at a very fast pace.  I could feel the wet, grassy, solid ground beneath my feet.  We started up a large, steep, inclining hill.  The ground was slippery, and it was hard for my feet to maintain a solid grip against the surface.  As I made my way up the hill, I could feel that my shins and my thighs were starting to burn. This tingly, burning sensation was getting worse, and I just wanted to stop running.  I kept pushing though, even as the pain was building.  I reached the top of the hill, and was now on flat land.  I was now running on a narrow, gravel lane with screaming fans lined up on both sides of the pathway. 

“Go, go!” a woman shouted.

“Faster, run, run!” another spectator screeched. 

As I came striding past these crazed fans, I realized how important the race was.  This was the last and final race of the year.  It was the championship.  It was all I worked and trained for.  It was everything!

I kept running.  The runner beside me was breathing heavily, and the sound of his feet crashing against the ground was intimidating.  I, however, was not about to back down.  As we passed the rocky, flat path, my mind started to drift away from the race, the screaming fans, and everything around me.  I started to ask myself if this pain and agony would be worth it in the end.  I went back to the beginning of the school year when I was debating if I should run.

I remember debating to myself if I would be able to handle the hard work, pain, discipline, desire, and heart that was needed to be competitive at the sport.  Everyday this repetitively played in my mind.  I was full of mixed emotions.  On one hand, I just wanted to relax and concentrate on my studies my freshman year of high school.  On the other hand, I wanted to be part of a team to meet friends and to have fun.  I wanted to be pushed every second of the race by the screaming fans.  I wanted to feel that intense feeling of victory.  I wanted to experience that wild, thrilling, orgasmic feeling as I crossed the finished line. 

I then drifted from my debating period to the actual training period.  I remember some of our practices that were complete torture.   It was absolute pain and hard work.    Every day at practice I would taste the sweat that came pouring down from my forehead onto the top of my dry, chapped lips.  Some practices my legs felt so tired and felt like they just were going to collapse.  Other practices I couldn’t even feel my legs.  Other practices they felt as light as a feather, and it just felt so easy to move and to run.  No matter how my body felt, it somehow kept going.  Some days, we ran through rain, and others we ran in the bitter cold.  I just kept running.  

            I slowly brought myself back into reality and back into the race.  I looked out in front of me and saw one last hill before the finish line.  My legs kept moving.  My arms were pacing back and forth, but it took more and more effort to move my them with every stride I took.  My shoulders were starting to feel week, and felt like they were going to collapse in my body.  I needed and wanted a drink so badly that I was trying to lick the sweat from the side of my face.  With all of this pain and agony, I kept pressing harder and moving forward.  I approached the hill along with the runner besides me.  I thought my legs were going to give out from underneath me.  I looked to the top of the hill, and it was not far away.  The excitement from this helped me take a few extra long strides.  I stumbled a little, but regained my composure.  I was at the top.  All that was left was the final turn, and then the straightaway.   

            I glided back down the hill with very short, yet confident strides.  I was on a flat surface again.  It was now time to kick in the final push.  I knew it would come down to the finish, and I was up for the challenge.  I took a deep breath, and started sprinting toward the finish line as fast as my body would go.  I looked to my side, and saw that the runner was still with me.  With each one of our strides, we were moving faster.   As we rounded the final stretch, both of us were neck and neck.  I could hear him breathing heavily, and he could hear me doing the same.  Our strides were of the same rhythmic pattern and were moving at the same rate.  I could see the finish line in the distance and then picked up the pace.    My heart was pounding rapidly.  My body was extremely hot, worn down, and exhausted.  We approached the finish line.  The frantic, hysterical fans were screaming at us to go faster.  Crossing the finish line was the only thing on my mind.  For a second, I blocked off from the race again, and thought about all the hard work that went into the season.  It gave me an even greater passion to be at the finish line.  I had to cross it first, and was not about to back down.  I was running at full speed.  It was only a few feet ahead.  The runner along side of me was grunting with pain.  This made me push harder to the line.  I took a few last strides and crossed.  I was not sure who had won.  It was so close. 

            “Bishop Hafey finishes first,” a man called out.

At that moment I knew I had won.  I accomplished everything that I wanted, and then some.  I started to cry.  The tears that ran down my face were tears of happiness and completeness.  I felt this wholesomeness inside of me because I finally reached and surpassed my goal: to be a good runner.  I felt faintish from the race, but I did not care.  I was felt so happy.  A sudden rush of anxiety darted up through my body.  I had the chills.  I was excited, but could not fully enjoy this ecstatic feeling because I still was a little disoriented from the race.  I was dehydrated and my mouth was dry.  I still managed to continually smile.  I had everything to smile about.  I felt like a royal king with complete control and power.  After a short while, the moment eventually faded, but the lesson I experience from the race and the whole season will stay with me forever.

Summarizing Ralph Waldo Emerson’s words, we have to be motivated and work hard to achieve our goals.  Nothing will just be handed over to us.  The only thing we get out of life is what we put into it.  I have now learned this through experience.  As I try to shadow and use these inspiring words to achieve my goals, I realize that we must have courage.  Through running, I have learned that we must explore the world and what it offers us.  Once we start exploring, then we open the door towards much success and happiness in the future.